I had a weird day. It didn't start out all that great, as I woke up with a lump in my throat, and one stuffed nostril, that I swear trailed straight up into my brain. I was honestly surprised that my right eye wasn't cloudy because of it, and I had to talk fast and hard to convince myself it was just cause we slept with the window open. I cannot get sick.

I thoroughly dislike my niner shifts. I have to deal with traffic, and parking and all sorts of headaches.They don't come around all that often, as I am a regular 7aye to 7pee shifter, but at least I get to see the Hoodlums for a bit before I drop them off at the sitter, and by the time I swing through McDonalds, they are busy enough not to say, "Oh Miss Broadbent, I didn't know you worked today." Seriously, I am already eating there, why not let me keep a little dignity and not recognize me from my order?

This morning, I walked into the kitchen to find Dylan chowing down as fast as he could, on plain white bread. He does not like to eat breakfast away from home, and the speed was due to the fact that he wanted to get it gone before I caught him. I am not a fan of white bread, being the health nut that I am, and the only reason it even exists in our house, is because Daveskins has an all out tantrum, if I don't buy it for him. It gets really ugly, and I would rather just not deal with him holding his breath until he passes out. Don't even get me started on the toaster strudels.......

After a mass amount of hugs and kisses, I left my little sweeties, at the sitter and migrated towards the city. I hate traffic, and there was plenty of it, so by the time I got to the hospital, I was late, and my mood was dangerously teetering on the side of unpleasantness. I parked illegally in the visitor lot, and made it to the elevator a couple of minutes ahead of a family walking towards me. I turned around and plastered a smile on my face, but about broke my finger, trying to jab at any button that would close the doors. For some reason the damn doors kept closing half way and then opening again. When the family got on the elevator, I pressed the same button I had been pushing, which I thought was to the hospital entrance, and the doors half closed and opened right back up. Freak! The woman looked over at me and cooly said, "You have to push a button for a floor you're not already on." Yeah....well, duh. I was totally busted, and had to endure a painfully awkward ride. I should have just taken the 12 damn stairs.

In a big ER, you know it isn't good if you recognize your patient from previous visits, and that goes doubly so, for patients who you recognize from 12 hours ago on your last shift. My first patient, was detoxing from heroin, and was a total P.I.T.A.(pain in the......arm). He was in a hall bed, due to psych overcrowding, and was trying to negotiate some Dilaudid with me,(medical grade heroin), but I offered him Tylenol, so he threw his cup at me. I had gotten busy with some other patients when one of our security officers radioed me to let me know that my P.I.T.A. had something for me. As I came walking down the hall, all I could see was his arm sticking through the rails of the bed, and a completely full vomit bag, hanging from his fingers. Previously, during the cup throwing tantrum, he was really trying hard to force some puke, but without any luck, so I was impressed that he had managed to actually vomit. Thankfully, security intercepted me and gave me a heads up that the bag had come from underneath the patient's blanket. Dully noted. Life lesson #421- If you give the bird on your morning commute and don't hold the elevator for young families, you're going to get the patient that thinks it's kosh to pee in the hall.

In the afternoon, I had a bloody incident with a patient, and had to go to the locker room to change scrubs. While I was there I wanted to take advantage of our clean, private, bathroom, and had my pants around my ankles when the door flew open. I screamed and the housekeeper, Guadalupe screamed. I started apologizing, and when she opened her eyes and saw it was me, she just gave me this disgusted look and started muttering in Spanish. I have probably forgotten to lock the bathroom door at work about 4 times. For some weird reason, it is always Guadalupe that walks in on me. She must think I am doing this on purpose especially since this is the second time in two weeks. I know I will never forget when she walked in on me using my breast pump, after having Em. It was almost like she couldn't look away from the startled hefer with the full-speed motorized nipple stretcher, perched on the edge of a chair, in the bathroom. I know I still have flashbacks. I can't even imagine what she's telling the other housekeepers that look at me and snicker.

After the bathroom incident I needed a break, so I took a couple of Diet Cokes to my favorite-patient-of-the-day's room to relax. He was a feisty 90 year old guy who had been banned from meat due to an esophageal stricture, but decided to sneak a bite of Chicken Cordon Bleu anyway. The meat got stuck, so the patient's daughter dragged him in to get it removed. We drank our Coke's and fantasized about our favorite cuts of meat. He was a Pork Man, and I am a Beef Girl, but it is always so nice to bump into another meat lover, and it was just what I needed to get me through the rest of the day.

At 9:20, I bolted out of the hospital and headed to my car. At 9:35 I went back through the hospital after realizing I parked in a different garage, shizz. Finally, after wandering the parking levels, following the sound of my car alarm, I was on my way. There is no denying that I am deep in the throes of a head cold, but at least that gives me a legitimate reason to drink Nyquil, and hopefully awake tomorrow refreshed, and with a new resolve to be the kind of person that people say, "Deep down, she's really a nice girl."